


Two Wrongs

by sue_denimme



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sue_denimme/pseuds/sue_denimme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Merry recruit Sam into the Conspiracy?  Sam tells how that conversation unfolded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Wrongs

You ask me how Mr. Merry got me to watch you for him, Mr. Frodo?

Well, you see, 'twere like this. It were the morning after your birthday party, three years ago. You'll recollect that were the first time that little Masters Gerimac and Garadoc Brandybuck, and Miss Oleander Took, was there. They'd been out and about and playin' in the garden while the grownups was talkin', and from the state the trellis was in on that morn, it seemed they'd been climbin' on it. I saw it when I came up to work that day, and I went to get hammer, nails, paint, and brush so I could mend it.

I'd come back and was settin' things just so, before gettin' to work, when there came a voice.

"Is that you, Sam?"

I near jumped a mile, but looked 'round and saw 'twas Mr. Merry, poppin' his head up from behind the azaleas, where I reckon he'd been sittin' on the bench there.

"Oh, Mr. Merry! You gave me a turn, sir. I didn't know as anybody was about."

"Sorry, Sam."

"That's quite all right, sir," I said, and my heart quieted down. I smiled at him, for he and I'd always gotten along, and went on with layin' the nails where they'd be handy.

He got up and came 'round the bushes to stand behind me, his pipe in hand. "Oh, dear, I see my little cousins have made more work for you this morning."

I shrugged. "I like to be busy, Mr. Merry. Did you and yours have a nice night?"

"We did indeed, and a quieter one once the bairns were abed. Frodo stayed up rather a long time talking to Mum and Da, so we'll likely not see him 'til second breakfast, if not after." He chuckled. "I was just out here, having my morning smoke. Lovely day."

"That it is, sir," I said. The slats of the trellis that had gotten bent would have to be replaced, but just for then I reckoned it were enough just to straighten 'em back to where they were and touch the paint up a bit. I got myself started on doin' it.

Mr. Merry watched me straightenin' and hammerin' for a little while, and even helped by handin' me the nails. He made a little small talk as well, which I didn't mind, since I like havin' a bit o' company sometimes when I work, as you know. But there came a quiet stretch, until finally he spoke again.

"Sam, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"You know you can ask me anything you like, Mr. Merry," I said, linin' up the hammer on one of the last three nails.

"I should warn you that it's not a usual sort of question, and you might think it a bit queer, in fact. But I really want to hear your opinion on -- this little matter that's been on my mind."

"If it's something I'm able to help you with, sir, of course I will."

Mr. Merry paused a moment and scratched his head, like he were tryin' to think of how to put what he wanted to say. Finally he spoke. "Well, imagine that you have...a friend. A very dear friend, one who's almost like a brother to you. And lately that friend has started to worry you, in ways that seem small but might add up to something big, something that might end up hurting him. And supposing you had another friend, one who was able to keep a closer eye on him than you were. Now, here's the question. Do you think it would be...all right...if you asked the second friend to watch the first one, without him knowing, and tell you about anything he did or said that was -- well, let's say unusual -- so that you could know what was what and could help him when the time came that he needed help?"

He'd warned me it might sound queer, and queer it sounded indeed. But I'd given my word, so I thought about it while I hammered.

"Well, I don't really hold with spyin' on people, Mr. Merry, and if your first friend ever got wind of it and got angry at you and the second friend, he'd be right, I'm thinkin'."

"But supposing this was the only way to help him, or the only way that you could see to help him? Wouldn't that mend matters, at least a little?"

I held out my hand for the last nail, which he gave me. "It might," I allowed. "But whyn't just tell your first friend you're worried for him? Maybe he'd listen to you, and take whatever advice you had to give him, and there wouldn't be no need for nobody to go spyin' on nobody."

Mr. Merry sighed. "But that's the thing, Sam. I can't just tell him. He's the sort that would smile and tell me there was nothing wrong, but then would continue down the path to ruin, as it were. Only he'd be even more close about it than before, and I'd never get to help him when he got into trouble, because I wouldn't know until it was too late."

I went still, just as I were about to start hammerin' again, for suddenly it all seemed to fall into place, what he was sayin' to me. He weren't talkin' about some "what if". This were something real, that were really eatin' at him. And just like that, I knew who his "first friend" was.

I turned and looked at him. "Mr. Merry, is it Mr. Frodo you're talkin' about?" I asked.

He bit his lip, and nodded, even smilin' a little, like he'd known I'd figure it out sooner or later.

"You think he's going to do something that'll bring harm to hisself?" When he didn't answer right away, I put down the hammer and stood up. "Talk to me, Mr. Merry, please!" My heart was poundin' again and I had a sick feelin' in the pit of my stomach.

He got himself up as well, and laid his hand on my shoulder. "It's all right, Sam, really. Or it is at the moment, anyway. I don't really have anything to base it on, just a feeling, and little things he's done or said here and there. Not to mention that, well, he's a Baggins, and he's more like Bilbo than I think even he realizes."

It were my turn to nod, and I did, because I saw the truth in it.

"Frodo's forty-seven now, Sam. He may look like he's barely come of age, but in three years he'll be fifty. Which, I'm sure you remember, was how old Bilbo was when he had his Adventure. And you know how Frodo is about milestones. He'll turn fifty, and to his mind that'll be the right moment for him to finally have an adventure of his own, because Bilbo did. And he'll be gone, like that."

"Well, Mr. Merry, you may be right, but if he does decide to go, I don't see how you or I or anybody can stop him," I said.

"You're mistaking me, Sam." He looked me dead in the eye then. "I'm not looking to stop him. I'm looking to go with him."

I gaped. You goin' off on an Adventure was one thing; I'd more or less expected it ever since Mr. Bilbo went away. But another hobbit goin' with you? That were something I'd never even thought of. "Go with him, Mr. Merry?"

"Why not?" And he grinned suddenly. "Is there some rule written down somewhere, that Bagginses have the market cornered when it comes to doing silly things like having adventures?"

"If there is, I ain't heard of it, but -- Mr. Merry, are you sure you're figurin' right, about Mr. Frodo meanin' to go off somewheres?"

"As sure as I can be without actually being inside his head. I know Frodo. In fact, I believe I know him better than anyone else in the Shire, with the possible exception of you yourself." I drew breath to speak, but he went on. "Frodo's a restless soul. Like Bilbo. To all appearances, yes, he's all settled in, the Master of Bag End and all that, and ready to stay that way forever. But I've seen him looking at those old maps, and I've heard him talking about this or that, that some passing Dwarf told him. And it seems to get worse in the autumn. That's when he always goes on his longer walking jaunts, have you noticed?"

I nodded.

"And this is what worries me. I don't think Frodo's cut out for adventuring. He'd like to be, but he's not. If he were, he would have gone out and done something long before now. But that doesn't keep him from _wanting_ to want it, if you know what I mean. And he's convinced that Bilbo is still alive out there somewhere, despite what everyone says. That's always in the back of his mind. Why do you think he's never married?"

"I always reckoned he just hasn't never found a lass he liked well enough to have by him."

Mr. Merry shook his head. "It's not that. Well, it is, but only partly. If he were married, and the urge to travel hit, then he'd be deserting his wife. But if there's no wife to desert, then when he leaves, he can leave with a clear conscience. For him it's a choice between denying himself the love of a family, or denying himself the chance to see Bilbo again. And he's taken the former."

I hadn't never thought of it like that before, but I saw he was right. After all, sir, you _are_ what the lasses and their mums would call a "good catch", odd or no. Beggin' your pardon, but it's true. I know lots of those lasses have fancied you, and you've fancied 'em back, but yet you never picked one special to share your life with and have your bairns, like any other hobbit in your place would have done sooner or later. That's the life you chose, and it ain't for me to say that you chose wrongly, as you've always seemed happy enough. But the way Mr. Merry pointed it out put a different light on it, as it were, and made it seem almost cruel, havin' to give up one good thing for another, and not bein' able to have both.

"Poor Mr. Frodo," I said, half to myself.

"Indeed," said Mr. Merry. "And there it is. One of these days, within the next three years if I'm guessing right, Frodo is going to get a case of itchy feet so bad that he'll up and go, further than he's ever been, out of the Shire altogether. And the dear silly old ass will get himself into trouble, as sure as sure, because it's one thing to read about things like fighting brigands and getting chased by monsters, but I'm sure it's quite another to actually do it. So I intend to go with him, and save him from himself if I can. Yet, I can't do that, if I don't know exactly _when_ it's going to happen."

I looked at Mr. Merry with new eyes. It were a mite funny to hear him talk that way about you, you who's got a good fourteen years on him, after all, but still I couldn't help but be impressed. I'd known you and he were close, yet this were the first time I saw how much he truly loved you. To be willin' to leave his home and go into danger, just to protect you, even though he himself hadn't gone on any more adventures than you had?

And then it dawned on me why he was sayin' all this to me.

"You want _me_ to be the one to watch him, and tell you?"

He nodded, more serious than I'd ever seen him. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know this is an awkward position I'm putting you in. But there really isn't anyone else close enough to him, who has his interests at heart the way that you do. At least, I think you do. You care for Frodo, not just because he's your bread and butter, but because he's Frodo, am I right?"

I felt myself blushin', but I had to 'fess he had hit the nail on the head, so to speak. "Reckon I do, Mr. Merry. I doubt there's a kinder master anywhere in the Shire, or a finer hobbit, and there ain't nothin' I wouldn't do for him."

"Even spy on him?"

I couldn't answer him right then. I had to think on it some. So I picked up the hammer again, took the last nail, and began tappin' it into place, though my hands was shakin' just a little. How could I do what Mr. Merry was askin'? Spy on my master? A servant just don't do that. Their master provides 'em with a livin', and in return, he's got the right to expect the best. That don't just mean doin' what he requires, it also means no stealin', no lyin', no tellin' his secrets. There hadn't been a Gamgee born who'd ever done any of those things. I'd always prided myself that I'd die afore betrayin' your trust like that, Mr. Frodo. And now I was thinkin' about spyin'? My Gaffer would be 'shamed of me.

But what if I said no, and you went off alone without no one to help you, and got hurt or even kilt, tryin' to find Mr. Bilbo? Then I'd be partly to blame. And I couldn't live with myself, knowin' that.

Mr. Merry were good enough to stand by and hold his tongue while I thought. It couldn't be easy on him, neither. I know that as much as us servants have our rules, gentlehobbits also have got rules between themselves, to be fair to each other's servants and not ask them to steal, lie, spy, or do anything else wrong by their masters. What Mr. Merry was doin' would get him shunned by every other gentlehobbit in the Shire, if they knew.

Yet he was takin' that chance, because he loved you, Mr. Frodo, and wanted to keep you as safe as he could.

And so did I.

But afore I could say what I'd decided, you came out with all three of the bairns. Seems you'd looked out and seen me workin' on the trellis, and figured out what had happened and who had done it, and brought the little rascals out to face the music.

"We're sorry we climbed on your trellis, Uncle Frodo," Gerimac said.

"That's good," you said, "but I'm not the one who had to fix it. Tell Sam you're sorry as well, and remember that it's not right to put extra burdens on those who work for you or your relations. They already work hard enough, and deserve better from you."

Even though what I'd told Mr. Merry were true, that I didn't mind, I knew well enough the point you was tryin' to make to 'em, and kept silent as all three looked at me and said they was sorry. And sounded like they meant it, too. You do seem to have that effect on little 'uns.

I smiled at 'em and said I 'cepted, and after gettin' your nod, they ran off to their mums and das. Then you told Mr. Merry it were time for second breakfast and everybody were waitin' for him, and you invited me as well. Mr. Merry told you we'd be along in a minute.

After you went back to the hole, he looked at me, and smiled, all rueful-like. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear he'd overheard us," he said. "But I stand as chastised as my cousins. I've overstepped my bounds dreadfully, Sam, and I do hope you'll forgive me. I hereby withdraw my request. Two wrongs don't make a right, after all."

I set the paint can and brush aside, to wait 'til after second breakfast, afore gettin' up.

"Maybe this time they can, Mr. Merry," I said.

He gave me a startled look. I reckon that were truly the last thing he'd expected me to say. "You mean that, Sam?"

"Aye, I do," I told him. "I've been thinkin'. Spyin's wrong, no doubt about it, but if Mr. Frodo ever got hurt 'cause I listened to what I was taught and not to my heart, that'd be much worse, and I'd never forgive myself."

Mr. Merry shook his head. "Sam, you are a marvel. I am suitably humbled. Does Frodo have any idea how lucky he is, I wonder?"

"He don't have to," I said.

That made him laugh and clap me on the shoulder, as we walked into Bag End.

That's how I got to be Mr. Merry's "chief investigator", Mr. Frodo. Whether or not you forgive me for spyin', or him for askin' me to, is up to you. Just know that all we did, we did for love of you.

And for that, I don't ask no forgiveness.

 

~end


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